Disclairmer: Still don't own the Labyrinth
Chapter Four
Have a Little Faith in Me.
The urgent whispers had suddenly stopped. In their place, a low rumble sounded from somewhere behind her. And though her eyes were still heavy and sealed shut, the darkness had altered from grey to black. Something was wrong. The heat of the cabin and the electric charge in the air had vanished. Sarah felt the weight of her body plastered on its side, flat against a hard and cold surface. Her arm was draped over the edge of something angular and dangled loosely below. Where was she? Where did everyone go?
"Sarah…shhh…keep your eyes closed," his familiar warm voice cooed in Sarah's ear. "Ah ah ah…" he said gently, as Sarah's eyes fluttered open. She heard it! There was kindness in his voice. She was so eager to see his face, to be wrapped in the comfort of his arms. Jareth, her heart sang. All of her troubles could melt away at the sound of his honeyed voice.
"Jareth?!" she said as her eyes tried to make out his form in a pool of black before her, but the half grin she had so keenly awaited was met with nothingness. Nothing to see. And no reply.
"Jareth?" she said again, feeling about her. She reached clumsily, grasping into a black void. "Where are you?"
The silent seconds seemed to run for hours. Where was she? How did she get here? It felt as if she had woken up in an oubliette, or in the Black Hole of Creation. But then again the Black Hole was charged with creative energy she could feel. Here there was nothing but the sound of her own breath. Her heart was racing, oh no, was she in an oubliette? Was this the Brotherhood's doing? And if so how did she hear Jareth's voice? She was sure she felt his breath on her neck as he whispered in her ear. She closed her eyes tight, trying desperately to file through her memories in search for anything that could bring her to the present.
"I told you not to open your eyes!"
"Jareth?!"
"It's the only way. Sarah," Jareth's breath was once again hot on her shoulder. "My dearest Sarah. How I have missed you." He stopped, his lips grazed hers. A speechless Sarah grasped for more, but her hands and lips came up wanting.
"Listen, you have questions."
"Yes," Sarah said… "Where are we? How do we get out of here?"
"You have more important questions."
"How are you here?" she pleaded, her eyes squeezed tightly shut afraid his presence would cease.
"Sarah, listen to me." She could feel him circling her. How can he see me? "You search to understand, or to find a solution, or to fix me."
"Yes, yes. All of the above." She nodded emphatically into the darkness.
"Where do you go when you search for knowledge in the Makers Realm?"
Sarah stopped as she realized his meaning. Had she really overlooked the obvious? "I am to go to the Hall of Half Truths." She stated, as if a piece of the puzzle was put into place.
"You've been there before."
"Of course. The Other Hall of Half Truths."
"Precisely, my dove." His steps halted before her. She could feel his breath on her forehead now, and then the warmth of his hand cupping her right cheek. Elation. Oh, if she could freeze this moment in time.
"I can't believe you are here. I've missed you so much, Jareth. If you only knew how much." The touch of his hand had disappeared and her tingling senses went numb. And like that she knew he had vanished. Sarah's stomach seemed to plummet into the ground below. What a horrible trick, she cringed, raising her head defiantly. She would not allow the grief festering under the surface to rise. She shook her head angrily. What kind of horrible place have I found myself in?
She reopened her eyes. The darkness had given way. And as she squinted through the haze of light—she focused on a familiar sight. Pulling herself up from a steel bench she recognized the glass cylinder form of Jeminy's train, which hummed quietly in place over Ximunenia. She stretched her legs, looking around her with a perplexed expression. Sitting across from Sarah, Jeminy sat watching her through his half moon glasses. He smiled kindheartedly as their eyes met.
"Hello, Sarah," Jeminy began, allowing her a moment to reposition herself on the bench in front of him. "Please, we only have a few minutes."
Sarah settled dutifully trying to bury her questions on how or why she was now on Jeminy's train.
"I'm listening," she said, focusing on the healthy and serene Jeminy.
"Take them with you." Jeminy said as if picking up a conversation they had left unfinished.
"I'm sorry, take who? Where?"
"Of course, Knightly will protest. He is far too stubborn to know what is best for him. He could never see beyond what is in front of him, and therefore he can only trust what he can see. But once you gain his trust he is an invaluable ally."
"You want me to take Knightly with me?" Sarah asked, thinking of Knightly's blatant indignation towards her.
"Willa. My lovely Willa. Well, let us just say that her name suits her. She has a will of steel, and she will not let you leave her behind. Protect her, Sarah. She is still young and idealistic… and inexperienced in making."
"Willa and Knigtly? You want me to take your son and daughter with me. It's very dangerous, Jeminy."
"Protect her."
"Jeminy," Sarah said, biting down on her lower lip. "I don't even know if I can protect myself."
Jeminy smiled widely. "You are stronger than you know."
"Everyone keeps saying that. What if you are wrong?"
"I'm an excellent judge of makers."
No pressure, of course, Sarah thought. She looked at Jeminy's confident smile wishing she could mirror his expression. Instead her eyes planted themselves on her fidgety fingers. I am still not sure where I'm going or what I'm doing.
Jeminy nodded, compassionately. "You need answers. Go to the Other Hall of Half Truths as Jareth advised."
She was startled by the mention of Jareth's name. "You heard him too?" She asked, with surmounting hope. "How was he here? Where did he go?"
"I do not know any more than you know," he said, looking about the steel rimmed glass train. "This is your dream, Sarah."
Sarah felt like her gut had been delivered a wrenching blow. "I am dreaming." The oubliette, Jareth's voice, his breath, his lips, the glass train, the aqua blue sky, Jeminy. Everything was nothing but her own creation.
"I am here by your making."'
"So you are a figment of my imagination?"
"No. I am as real as you are—I am here because you summoned me." So she was talking to Jeminy? Was she talking to Jareth before? "Please tell Carmelis not to worry," he said, leaning back with a withdrawn expression.
Sarah didn't like the sound of that. Why did she have to give Carmelis a message from Jeminy? Did it mean that the transfusion or the cauterization had failed? "What do you mean? Why can't you tell her, Jeminy?"
"I'm very tired, Sarah. There is a letter, here," he continued patting his breast pocket. "It's for my family."
Of course it failed. Sarah was not a doctor. She feared the response to her next question. "Jeminy, are you alright?"
"I'm marvelous, Sarah. How could I not be? You gave me your life force."
"Jeminy?" Sarah, began looking at him with renewed confusion. "How do you know about that? I never told anyone that story." She shook her head, clearly this was all her imagination. As if on cue, Jeminy's presence began to flicker before her. "Jeminy?"
"Go to the Other Hall of Half Truths," he said clearly, and loudly between flashes. "Your quest will begin there," he finished before fading out like the last embers in a fire. Sarah was dumbfounded, what should she do next? Okay, okay. I'll bite, Jeminy. I will try and do as you say. She looked around her, exploring the train her mind had created. But how do I get out of here? Sarah stood up resolutely. She could feel the floor under her feet. She grazed the cool surface of a window next to her, leaning against the hard surface to examine the world below. Ximunenia remained a mass of steel wreckage, the devastation made her feel sick once more. This quest, she thought, Jareth is here guiding me still. She placed her hand firmly on the glass, it felt so real. How could it be in her head? She heard the cracking of glass beneath her palm and shot back, stumbling onto the adjacent bench. The splinter in the glass began to spread, moving up and over her head, and down and below her feet. The shattering sounded all around her as she jolted up trying to gain her balance. The train began to disappear as the shards of glass dislodged and fell down to join the rubble below. It's a dream, she said, reassuring herself. Close your eyes and…
"Wake up!" Jareth's voice sounded in the blackness.
Sarah reopened her eyes.
Jareth was gone, and she was in the bunker once more.
/:/:/:/:/:/
What a mess this was, Knightly thought, alternating worried glances between the two unconscious bodies beside him. Excellent idea, Sarah, he huffed, put your life in danger too. Sarah had passed out a few hours ago during the transfusion. Willa had promptly stopped the flow while the others sat wringing their hands, waiting for one or both of them to pull through. He had bit his tongue during the entire procedure. His mother and sister wanted this. He cringed. It seemed so ludicrous to share blood. Was this really the human method? Burn his father? It took all of his strength to hold his father in place as his father contorted his body in pain. Not to mention that he had never heard his father raise his voice, let alone release that guttural cry before passing out himself. Knightly was sure that the scene would be forever scarred into his mind. And if his father didn't come through…his last moments would have been of torment and pain inflicted by his own daughter. As instructed by that imposter Sarah. The one who came to save? Ha! Much good she will do us like that.
"Oh ye of little faith," his mother said, seemingly reading his mind. "They'll come through. You'll see," she placed her hand on his arm reassuringly.
"I think his color looks better, don't you, Mother?" Willa said, applying a damp towel to her father's brow.
"I think he will wake any minute," Carmelis said gently. "They both will wake and then Knightly can help her in her quest."
"Mother, we have been through this. I am joining the Maker's Apostles. That is where I belong."
"Your Father believes that the Maker's Apostles do not have the strength or experience required to match the Brotherhood."
"They are soldiers, Mother. They have strength and numbers."
"But do they have a stronger power? And what are numbers without well thought out calculations and strategy?"
"Trothe, Walum help me out here. Explain to my mother that the Maker's Apostles are not just throwing themselves to the wolves." Knightly said, eying the men to his side.
Walum looked at him apologetically, "Sorry mate, sounds like a family matter to me." Coward, Knigthly throught, gritting his teeth.
"Trothe? Come on, you know this is crazy."
"Knightly, you've known me since you were a little boy. Have you ever seen me disagree with your father?"
"This is ridiculous. Have you all lost your minds?!" Knightly snapped, all eyes on him. "No, no. I know what this is. You have all just been through a traumatic experience and you are all grasping desperately for hope. You need faith in HER to get through this, but it is completely irrational. It's based on a nursery rhyme! Tell me, what has she done for any of us? I'll tell you what. She has put my father's life in jeopardy now, not once, but twice."
"That's not fair. This isn't Sarah's fault." Willa said, calmly.
"Fine, and the last time? If he hadn't taken her on his train he wouldn't have been abducted in the first place."
"She risked her life to save him."
"She was saving her mother," Knightly retorted angrily. "Don't be fooled. Sarah doesn't care about any of us. She is on this mission for one reason. To save Jareth of Jorg. After she fails with that, she will probably just head back to human realm and forget we ever existed. We don't matter." His captivated audience stared back at him with a look of silent opposition. "We. Don't. Matter."
"Yes, you do," a weak voice broke through the following silence.
Knightly watched as all the makers pivoted their attention to where Sarah lay.
Great, he thought. Impeccable timing.
"Sarah!" Willa said, bounding to her side and hugging her.
Sarah smiled at the warm gesture. At least Willa was glad to see her.
"Knightly," she began pulling herself up, "Carmelis, Willa… I have a message for you, from Jeminy."
"Perfect, and now you expect us to believe that you somehow talked to my father while you were passed out on our sofa."
"Is he alright?" Carmelis asked, caressing her husband's cheek.
"He says not to worry, that he is just tired. And he says I should take both Willa and Knightly with me."
"He said that?!" Willa asked, smiling eagerly.
"Well, he said I wouldn't be able to stop you from coming."
"Well you can stop me, I don't believe you for a second," Knightly shot back, crossing his arms defiantly.
"And he said there is a letter in his breast pocket for the three of you."
"There's a letter?" Carmelis asked, feeling under her husband's corduroy vest. Her hands returned with a thin envelope.
"Well, I'll be damned," Trothe offered with a smile. "Huh, Knightly? What can you say to that?"
Knightly stared silently at the letter his mother was opening with a conflicted expression.
Nothing. Knightly didn't know what to say. So for the moment he wouldn't say anything.
"Well go on, Mother" Willa urged, "What does it say?"
"It says," his mother began, her hands trembling as she unfolded the paper. She looked perplexed as she turned it over twice. Finally, she folded it up again slipping it into the envelope and handing it to Knightly.
"It reads," she continued again with a smile, "Trust in Sarah."
A/N: Thank you HEW!